The Mirror Girl
The Mirror Girl--stares back at me--with a look that knows too much--and a skin that never felt the burn of a soft--caressing--touch. She speaks with lips that smile--and laugh--but never have been--kissed-- and cries with careful--countenance--that never has been missed. The mirror girl is cold and crystal--hard enough to feel--but who is to say, on the other side, Shes not the one who's real? The mirror girl is a stoi thing--that does not pain or ache-- but while I suffer and endure--the mirror girl merely--breaks